Chapter 11
1134 Words
I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, the marble floor cold beneath me, as if the palace itself wanted to remind me I didn’t belong. I had cried enough.
The ache in my chest hadn't vanished, but I had accepted it. Accepted that I was alone now… and that I’d have to find a way to survive, even here.
I rose the moment I heard footsteps.
“There you are,” a sharp voice cut through the stillness.
The woman at the door stood tall and stiff, her sharp brown eyes slicing through me like a blade. Her lips were set in a pout, as though smiling might cost her a fortune, and her raven-black hair was pulled into a tight, unforgiving coil at the back of her head.
She marched forward and, without so much as a second’s pause, pulled me into a brisk, impersonal hold as if touching me was a task to check off a list.
“I’m Ciara Vellin,” said the woman who seemed to be in her late thirties, her tone clipped and cold. “Chief maid of the Trueborn Court. I’ll be responsible for your appearance today, no matter how impossible that might be.”
“Poor thing, you’ve shaken the kingdom just with your presence. Everyone’s roaring to see the three-star bearer.”
I couldn’t tell if her words came from awe or irritation, but the edge in her tone leaned more toward the latter.
She clapped once, and the doors opened immediately. Four young women entered, each dressed in flowing gowns of soft magic shimmering, delicate dresses in varying shades of pale pink that danced like mist with every step.
“We made you a dress. Specifically for you,” Ciara said, her lips twitching with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s woven from enchanted thread—clothing born of soft magic. I’m sure you don’t have anything like this where you come from.”
Right… throwing insults right in my face. I was beginning to understand how things worked here. Nobody was kind, at least not to me.
“Is this how you treat people from outside your kingdom?” I asked, lifting a brow. “You speak to them like they’re rags beneath your shoes?”
Her lips pursed in mock amusement. “With that attitude of yours, girl… you’re in for many surprises,” she hissed under her breath before shoving me gently but firmly toward the mirror and sitting me down on the chair in front of it, like I was something to be displayed.
I didn’t protest. I simply watched carefully at all of them quietly.
Two of the girls began to coil my golden hair, twisting it carefully into a silver pin large enough to hold the weight of its thickness.
Ciara didn’t wait as soon as the girls were done with my hair.
“On your feet,” she ordered sharply.
I obeyed without resistance, rising politely. Two of the other girls stepped forward and, without a word, stripped me of the plain white-sleeved dress I had worn last night. I lifted my arms as instructed, allowing them to slip the new gown over me.
The moment the fabric touched my skin, it melted like moonlight—cool, weightless, and almost impossibly soft.
The gown shimmered with every breath I took, woven from a midnight sky laced with stardust. Each movement awakened glimmers of light, as if a thousand stars had come to rest on me.
It felt… like wearing the night sky.
For one small moment, my heart fluttered just enough to remind me I was still alive, still capable of feeling wonder.
But then reality settled back like a shadow. I was still surrounded by people who did not want me here.
“This is how we dress in Sylvarra,” Ciara said, her tone brisk, arms crossed as she looked me over. “Elegantly. Beautifully. And if you’re to live among us, you must at least appear like one of us.”
My brows drew together in a frown. “Who said I planned to live among you?” I snapped, the annoyance curling in my chest refusing to stay buried.
She tilted her head, her lips curling in irritation. “It’s rumored that you’ve lost everything. Sylvarra is being kind, taking you in because of your so-called ‘special abilities.’”
Kind to take me in?
Or had they simply trapped me here, wrapped in silk and spun lies, to use me as they pleased?
My anger pulsed beneath the surface like a quiet storm. But I held it down. I would not let it show yet.
I didn’t know what to expect next. But whatever hope I’d held onto earlier… it was slipping.
This place felt less like a sanctuary and more like a beautifully crafted cage. The deeper I went, the more I felt it, like vines tightening around my freedom.
And then there was Prince Eryndor.
A part of me wanted to trust him. Maybe even believe in the promises he’d made. But another part, a quieter, softer voice, warned me not to lean too heavily on anyone. Not here.
I didn’t know if my life would begin here… or end in silence behind these palace walls.
But no, I won’t give up on looking for them myself.
I wasn’t going to give up yet.
I would find a way to escape. I would find Violet and Zach even if it meant doing it on my own.
Even though Prince Eryndor had spoken gently, even though his words held something close to kindness, I couldn’t afford to rely on him.
I was alone in this world. And if I didn’t learn to stand on my own, they would break me slowly, cruelly, until nothing was left but a shadow of who I once was.
I didn’t want that. I couldn’t let that happen.
So I would learn. I would try. Even if I didn’t know how. Even if every step forward felt like walking into the unknown.
“Prince Eryndor awaits you in the hallway. Don’t keep him waiting,” Ciara warned, her voice firm, her gaze lowered just slightly as she looked at me through her lashes.
Without another word, she turned on her heels. The girls followed her in perfect step, and the door shut behind them with a soft but final thud.
The moment I was alone, I moved.
First things first… I slipped to the side of the bed and grabbed the blade I had hidden there. My fingers curled around the hilt with familiarity.
I tucked it carefully beneath the folds of my gown, securing it against my thigh. It was the only companion I could trust right now.
- Writer
